As an adult, I think it’s easy for me to forget how exciting and impacting simple childhood traditions can be.  But when I stop and reach way back to my own childhood memories I remember.  I remember watching my mom carefully cut the top off of a bright orange pumpkin.  I remember reaching in feeling the cool slim squish through my fingers.  It was all so new and amazing!  Watching my mom rinse and roast those pumpkin seeds in the oven.  Being delighted at the sight of my jack-o-lantern siting on the porch with a cheery candle glowing inside.

We are right there with our own children.  In that perfect stage of memory making.  So at the beginning of the week the old newspapers got spread over the kitchen table, sharpies, big spoons and carving knives were rounded up and we got to pumpkin carving.

Her pumpkin carving hat.

They all drew their own faces and I helped cut them out.  I love the way they turned out!  Pumpkins with lopsided grins and mismatched eyes are the best.

Our kiddos go to AWANAS every Wednesday night.  Because Halloween landed on Wednesday this year the AWANA leaders got together and made a special night for the kids.  Fun games and face painting and the kids were asked to dress up like their favorite animal.  My boys do not dress up.  Ever.  Not super heroes or cowboys… nothing.  It’s just too embarrassing to dress up.  People might look at you and even worse they might comment on what you’re wearing.  Oh the horror!

But now… I have one that will   She loves dressing up.  She decided to be a butterfly.

I can’t even tell you how much she loved her fuzzy antenna.  She bounced, and fluttered around the house.  What she lacks in gracefulness she makes up for in enthusiasm.
 

Yeah.  She was pretty darn cute if I do say so myself.

Somehow it’s already November.  The leaves are finally changing color.  Rain has washed away the harvest dust, there’s even some snow up in the mountains, or so I’m told.

I hope you are enjoying all the little traditions of the season!    ~April

What I know about this picture:

She screamed the entire time it took to fill up the tub *  I came in no less the four times to tell to her to stop making tidal waves in the bath *  In typical 3-year-old fashion she insisted on doing everything herself *  She was furious with me when she got soap in her eyes *  I got almost as wet as she did during the whole process *  She spilled the basket of wet toys which scattered across the bathroom floor *  By the end of the day she looked like she had never even taken a bath *

What I will remember about this picture:

The way we both burst into laughter when I came around the corner and saw her wearing those lopsided goggles*  The little song she made up about the turtle and the fireman *  How she kissed the palm of my hand when I was drying her off *  How perfect her head smells after a bath*  The way I chased her around the house yelling, “Ahh!  Naked baby!  Pinch the buns!”, and the way she squealed and laughed until she gave herself the hiccups.

I realize that there is a disconnect between what I know and what I remember.  I am not a historian dictating facts for future generations.  I’m a mother.  Everyday I try to leave behind yesterday’s frustrations, mistakes, regrets, and tiredness, while at the same time holding onto the things that give me hope; that make me smile.

So here’s to fact and fond memories, and this beautiful life that is held perfectly in tension between the two.

~April

Without a doubt, I count being the mother of two boys, as one of the greatest privileges of my life.  Brothers, just twenty months apart, and from the very first day they could not have been more different.  This road I am walking with them has been quite the adventure.

No, it has not been all smiles and ease with these two.  But all the squabbling, fussing, and rough-housing, pales when I hold it up to the beautiful friendship these boys have with each other.

The differences in their personalities is a constant source of amusement and amazement to me. At the same time I love seeing how well they fit together and balancing each other out.  Knocking the edges off each other (which is sometimes a source of real friction )

If you were to watch my boys eat Junior Mints, you would know almost everything there is to know about their personalities.  Hand J 10 Junior Mints and he will eat one… maybe two, and save the rest.  They will be tucked away in some secure little place and savored throughout the following days.  Give G the same 10 Junior mints, and he will pop them all in his mouth at once and grin at you with a big chocolately grin.  Then he will spend the next several days quietly sneaking mints from J‘s stash.

J takes life kind of seriously.  He is a rule follower.  He has a lot of nervous energy.  Even when he is sitting down some part of his body is still moving.  He loves being on the go, and in the thick of things.  He doesn’t know how to take teasing, it stresses him out a little when someone teases him.  He very responsible, and notices everything.  J‘s primary form of communication comes in the form of questions. So having a conversation with him feels a bit like being interrogated. He wears his heart on his sleeve.  He would make a terrible poker player because every thought he thinks is written all over his face. He has the biggest most tender heart.

J is also a saver.  Actually hoarder would be closer to the mark.

He has a corner in his room were he stashes all his valuable and much needed trinkets and items.  The following list is just a small sampling of the things I found while cleaning their room: a sugar cookie from Christmas, the children’s menu from when we went to Chili’s 2 months ago, and unused package of crayons (he doesn’t want to use them because the wouldn’t be new anymore), shoe boxes in a variety of sizes, random clips and ropes… and so on and so forth…

He gets a little nervous when I clean the room.  He knows me well.  I am not a saver.  I am a “what it the world is this, let’s throw it out” kinda girl.

G is a charmer.  He has big dreamy eyes and a slow smile.  He’s not shy but he’s quieter than J.  He moves slower, takes his time, enjoys all of life’s little charms.  He is infatuated with little things.  G tends to fly under the radar most of the time, which is exactly how he likes it.  That way no ones notices that he has helped himself to 10 Oreos, until it has already happened and he is long gone.  G is the most generous soul I know.  He will forfeit any toy, or position of favor he might have, in order to bring peace to an argument.  He has an amazing imagination!  J didn’t know how to play in an imaginative way until G taught him.  He tells me the most interesting stories and uses the most descriptive words.  The other night we were getting in the car to go to Awanas.  G is 10 steps behind (as usual) looking up at the sky.  He then says to me, “Mom, those stars are all really close together.  They are touching each other.  They must be kissing stars. They must be having a star party.”  Kissing stars… how delightful.

Most of all I am so proud of how they treat each other.  They are the first to cheer the other on.  They get heated with each other now and again, but they are so quick to forgive.  They are protective of one another.  Since they were little I have told them, “You two look after each other. Don’t let anyone mess with your brother.  You treat your brother better than you would a friend.”  And for the most part they hold true to that.

I can’t wait to see what the future holds for these boys.  I gives me great comfort to know that whatever is in store for them, they will face it together.